Commonplace

Saturday Plans

Thank you for all of your good wishes for Jake. The first week went pretty well overall. My boy is intense and dramatic (that's putting a rosy spin on it) but I'm always impressed with his resiliency. When I told him that he was switching schools there was a time it seemed he might never come out of his room or smile again. He went through all seven stages of grieving. And then one morning he found the Staples bag with his supplies in it, went through it, organized his binder and was ready.

Today tropical storm someone-or-other is going to make it so we stay inside and decompress. I'm hoping for some scrabble, some baking and a little time to go through those Vineyard photos I keep promising. I also promised Jake that we would use the dried catnip to sew some toys for Ginger-the-Puss.

My Grandmother's piano (pictured here) is going away tomorrow. My cousin Kiva is going to have a turn with it. We really could use the space. When it was given to us, we were a two person family (me and Jake). When Niall moved in we didn't require much more space, but now with Baby Quinn... well, those baby toys and gates take up an amazing amount of space. I'm getting a bit sentimental about saying goodbye to the piano but I'm comforted by knowing it's going to be in the family, and also by the idea that I will finally have a place to put all those books that currently live on the floor in piles. Ikea here I come!

My Husband's Mistress

We're home from another fun and productive (work) weekend with Niall's true love.

Before we married, he bought an 1806 Federal style house in Southern Vermont.

Here's what it looked like in 1912.

Here's what it looked like in 2001.

Here is what it looked like this past weekend.

It's not that the house is finished, by any stretch, but now we have heat, hot water and three working toilets!

We live in the back portion of the house which looked like this when Niall bought it:

And today:

In addition to the luxuries of heat and modern plumbing, all of the rooms in the back of the house have walls and floors. Currently, I can't say the same of all of the front rooms.

Fixing this house up is a true labor of love for Niall. He can tell you the family history of everyone who has ever lived in this house including Dr. Josiah Graves. Dr. Graves was the original owner and he was the first doctor ever to reside in this small Vermont town.

Here are some other views:

As much as I enjoy the never-ending projects when we visit, it is always nice to return to the comforts of home.

Spilled Milk

Guess what this is.

I'll give you a hint. I have to walk through it to get into my house.

Here. Maybe this will help.

When I left this morning this was one large pane of unblemished (save a few handprints) insulated, double paned, installed by the hands of the man I love, glass. I came home to a mowed lawn and this.

I wish I had an 'oh, well, accidents happen' 'there's no use crying over spilled milk' attitude but somehow all that broken glass perched precariously inside the aluminum frame freaked me out. Should I open it? Will it fall out? Why didn't the kid who mowed my lawn and so obviously broke it just leave me a note. Why don't people say they're sorry? Doesn't he read OperationNice.com? I guess if he did, he would know that "I'm sorry. I broke your front door and I'll be back at noon to fix it." would have made it all better?

Oh well. Accidents happen and there's no used crying over broken glass.   

Fabulous

Since I've been contemplating blogging about various things for quite some time, but have only gotten around to it recently, I have a store of subjects in the cue. Take for example, the following story.

Last summer this fabulous print was delivered to my house by a guy in a truck.

It arrived with this note from the artist:

It reads:

Dear Niall,

Many thanks for your efforts on my behalf over the last couple of years. I have always learned something in talking to you.

And congratulations on your new family!

Love and Best Wishes,

Philip Taaffe

Wow.

Okay. It was slightly less dramatic than the doorbell ringing and finding this six foot tall package standing there. We had a little advance notice, but no real idea. Niall was the project architect for the redesign and expansion of the artist's weekend home. Philip had told Niall that he wanted to send him something as thanks. Some months later we got a phone call from a gallery in New York City asking us for our address and when a good time might be to drop something off. Who could have known?

The most wonderful part of this story to me is that both Niall and I adore this print. We love it. Imagine receiving such a grand gift and not even liking it. What would you do? It doesn't matter. We love it. Did I mention how much we love it? One day we'll actually take it out from behind my Grandmother's piano and hang it!

Blanket Love

Before I get to the craft content here, there's obvious business to take care of. Yes, that is an orange corduroy sofa and yes it's next to a wall that is, in fact, painted orange as well. Let's start with the wall. It was supposed to be a room for my son to play in. I actually love the orange for a sunny place to play. It's cheerful in there even on rainy days. As our family evolved (more on that another post) we needed the room to be more of an office-studio-family-play-room. The sofa belonged to my parents who purchased it in approximately 1970 when orange corduroy was more, shall we say, acceptable. It happens to be extremely comfortable and absolutely perfect for it's given purpose (save of course the fact that it is orange corduroy).

Moving on. I knit the blanket for Little while I was pregnant last year. It's Koigu Kersti and the pattern is worked from one corner increasing and yarn-overing until the desired width and then decreasing and yarn-overing. It was very fun (for a blanket) and I love the yarn's texture and colors but we have never ever used it.